


whatever's on your list

by doingthemost, singsongsung



Series: a spell that can't be broken [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Christmas Presents, F/F, Ghosts, Glenn the Ghost, Magic, Magical Realism, Ouija, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doingthemost/pseuds/doingthemost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/singsongsung/pseuds/singsongsung
Summary: Alexis turns away for a moment, trying to think. “Ugh. This isnotwhat I intended. No offense, Glenn, but I was not trying to get Twyla a ghost for Christmas.”-In her efforts to find the perfect Christmas gift for Twyla, Alexis gets a bit more than she bargained for.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Series: a spell that can't be broken [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071500
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	whatever's on your list

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sonlali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/gifts), [wanderinghope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinghope/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to L & J, and to anyone reading this, with love.
> 
> This fic is a continuation of the world established in [I've Only Ever Wanted Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186886/chapters/66404182), and while it's recommended that you read that one (because we think you'll like it!), you don't need to have read that before you read this one! If you're brand new to this world, all you need to know is that magical realism is perfectly normal, Alexis is a witch, Twyla is a medium, and they once banished a demon from Alexis' apartment. The fic takes place two months after Alexis and Twyla began a relationship together, and it's now the holiday season.
> 
> (Oh, and the title is from "December" by Ariana Grande.)

“Ohmygod,” Alexis breathes when all the lights in her apartment flicker, a rush of excitement, twisted up gently with a hint of alarm, flooding her body. She tosses aside her phone, which she’d picked up when her venture with the Ouija board was looking like a failure. “Hi!” she calls, glancing around her living room. “Hello.” 

She leans over the board, waiting for the planchette to move. When it doesn’t, she looks around again, suppressing a shiver. Her magic is gaining strength everyday, and the wash of warmth across her palms now is a testament to that, but this – communing with the spirits – isn’t quite her wheelhouse. Twyla’s the expert, but it’s important for Alexis to make this particular contact on her own. 

“Okay,” she says, rolling back her shoulders like she’s preparing for a business pitch. “Um. Twy says there are, like, a lot of you around here? Usually? Like, _eleven_? Which is a lot of, um… roommates. And it’s also kind of weird. Because you can see me, but obviously I can’t – ” She pauses. “Anyway, I just think it would be nice if maybe you didn’t, like, _watch_ me when I’m in the bath? But that’s not what I wanted to talk about today.” She clears her throat and raises her voice slightly as she asks, “Spirits, are all eleven of you here today?”

The planchette moves, and Alexis gasps delightedly. It settles over _NO._

“Okay, cool. How many of you are here?” 

The planchette moves slowly to the number _1_. 

“Oh, wow, okay!” Alexis says. She feels good about this – she’s probably more equipped for a one-on-one conversation with a spirit than a meeting with several of them. “Great. What’s your name?” 

_G, L, E, N, N,_ the planchette indicates, sliding over the board. 

“Glenn,” Alexis says. “ _So_ nice to meet you, Glenn!” She smiles at the space in front of her, then remembers that Glenn could be anywhere around her, so she waves broadly, including behind her and above her head. “So, here’s the sitch, babe. I need a Christmas gift for my girlfriend. You know her, right? Twyla? I feel like she’s very, like…” She searches for a word and settles on, “Beloved. Beyond the veil.” 

The planchette rattles against the board. Alexis frowns.

“Oh – you want, um, a specific question. Right? Wait, don’t answer that. Here’s the question: do you know Twyla?” She watches the planchette move to _YES_ , and grins, clasping her hands. “Okay, _excellent_ , Glenn. So, Twy is really good at gifts, and I want to choose something really good for her, too. And – ” She reaches toward her sofa, picking a magazine up off one of the cushions. “My mom published a gift guide in _Elle_ , and I think there’s something here that might actually be really good. Don’t worry; I know what you’re thinking, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure my mom didn’t _actually_ write this gift guide, so we can trust the recommendations.”

She waits, looking at the board, in case Glenn has anything to add. The planchette stays still. 

“Twyla’s really good in the kitchen - like, _really_ good in the kitchen,” Alexis says on a quiet sigh, losing herself in a memory for an instant, biting her tongue as she smiles to herself. “I hope you don’t know that, Glenn, because unwelcome voyeurism is not a cute look, but I guess you’re probably also really bored being dead, so… well, if you already knew that, I forgive you.” She offers up a magnanimous smile to the air. “Anyway, one of the gifts here is this really cute lil’ kitchen mixer that I actually think Twy might love. And you can get it in the _sweetest_ shade of baby blue. Do you think Twy would like that, Glenn?” 

The planchette shifts off of _YES_ and then immediately back onto it. 

“Me too!” Alexis cheers. “Yay, Glenn, _yay_. But here’s the thing. It’s, like, _surprisingly_ expensive? And so is everything on David’s list, of course.” She rolls her eyes. “And I already got Mutt that sweater made of recycled fabrics. So I’ve got some _minor_ budgetary constraints. And I’m hoping, Glenn, that you can tell me when this little baby – ” She taps her fingernail against the glossy image of the mixer in the magazine, “ – will be going on sale.”

The planchette moves, and Alexis watches eagerly. She pouts when it lands on _NO._

“Glenn!” she whines. “This is for Twyla. _Please_ be helpful.” The planchette shifts off of _NO_ and then back onto it, and Alexis huffs. “Why _not!_ ”

For a moment, the planchette doesn’t move. Then it slides to the _D_ , and then the _O_ , and then _N, T, K, N, O, W._

Alexis’ shoulders slump. “Really? Really, Glenn? I thought you’d have, like…” She shimmies. “Mystical knowledge, or something!” 

Slowly, almost apologetically, the planchette slides back to _NO._

“Ugh!” Alexis flings the magazine aside and pushes herself to her feet, pacing across her living room. “Well, what am I supposed to do, Glenn!? I have to get Twyla something she’ll really love. This is our first Christmas together; I want it to be… special. I want to make her happy.” 

She glances at the Ouija board, but the planchette is still. 

“You know, Glenn, gift-giving is a _love_ language. This isn’t about, like, consumerism. This is very serious. I want to make Twy…” She thinks of the sparkle she can bring out in Twyla’s eyes sometimes, the way she wants to chase after it until it flares into a flame that burns and burns. “I wanna make her light up, you know?” she says, more quietly. 

Glenn gives her nothing, and Alexis makes an annoyed sound in her throat. She pushes both hands through her hair, then flicks both wrists downward as she continues to pace. “What am I supposed to _do_?” she demands, and in her frustration, the warmth on her palms bursts into pure heat, and flashes of light flicker across her hands. 

Almost instantly, the same flashing pattern is echoed by all her light fixtures. Alexis freezes; that’s never happened before. It feels like all the air is sucked out of her apartment, and then, with a faint _pop_ of a sound, it floods back in. 

She sucks some of it in, her chest heaving. “What just happened?” she murmurs. Her hands feel like they’re crackling with currents of electricity, and she traces her thumbs up and down each of her fingers and along the lines of her palms, trying to soothe away the sensation. “Glenn?” she asks tentatively. 

Over in the kitchen, her refrigerator and her oven fly open simultaneously. Alexis shrieks, and claps a hand over her mouth, removing it quickly when the heat stings her lips. 

“Um,” she says, “what the fuck?” 

Her fridge closes. The drawer beneath her oven opens, and a frying pan appears to float out. 

Alexis inches backward, bending her knees so that she can grope along the surface of her coffee table for her cell phone without taking her eyes off the frying pan, which she fears is going to come hurtling toward her head at any moment. She swallows hard, and asks, dreading the answer, “Are you – is there a demon here?” 

Every one of her cupboard doors flies open in quick succession. This time, she manages to just barely stifle her scream. She hasn’t had time to form any more words before the planchette lifts up off the Ouija board and slams down, heavily, onto _NO._

“Okay,” she says, holding out her hands, a gesture of surrender. “O _kay_. God. Didn’t mean to, like, insult you.” 

_G, L, E, N, N,_ the planchette spells out.

“It is you,” Alexis breathes. “Thank god. Okay. Hey, Glenn. You’re, um. Here?” 

The planchette slides to _YES_ and then starts spelling something else: _M, U, F, F, I, N, T, I, N._

“Muffin tin?” Alexis asks, her brows drawing tightly together. She tries to connect the dots. “You think I should buy Twy a muffin tin? I don’t know, Glenn, that’s kind of – ” She’s interrupted by the drawer under her oven slamming closed and then sliding open again, and she blinks. “Oh. Um, no. I don’t have a muffin tin.” 

The drawer is shoved shut again – rather moodily, in Alexis’ opinion - and she plants her hands on her hips. “Glenn, could we focus please? I think we have more important things to think about here. Did I just – did I – ” She licks her lips, wondering just how much trouble she’s gotten herself into. 

“Glenn,” she says, attempting steadiness. “Did I maybe just, like, accidentally… magic you across the veil?”

An orange is removed from her fruit bowl and tossed into the air. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alexis murmurs, turning away for a moment, trying to think. “Ugh. This is _not_ what I intended. No offense, Glenn, but I was not trying to get Twyla a ghost for Christmas.” She chances a glance back toward the kitchen. Glenn appears to be inspecting her crystal wine glasses. 

“Um, excuse me, do you have any insight into _how_ this happened?” Alexis inquires. “Was it because we were talking about that mixer? And you want to make muffins?” She unlocks her phone and opens up her text history with Twyla, heaving a sigh at the message she’s going to have to send. _Merry Christmas, babe, please help me with a spirit situation._ “You really like to cook, huh, Glenn?” 

A few cupboards slam shut, and the kitchen sink turns on. Glenn puts a shaker full of cinnamon on the counter, followed by a set of measuring cups, and then gets the baking soda out of the fridge and sets it down with enough force that a little bit of powder puffs out of the box. Alexis squints at the collection of items, and lifts her hands into the air, assuming a shrug-like position. Glenn taps the box of baking soda onto the counter a few more times, and Alexis rolls her eyes. 

“You like to _bake_ ,” she says, understanding. “Pretty sure they’re the same thing, Glenn.” 

The orange is removed from the fruit bowl again. It sails across the kitchen, toward the living room. It doesn’t come close to hitting Alexis, but it does land on the floor with a squelching sound. She levels a very unimpressed look in the direction of the kitchen. “Okay, that? Was very rude. Please turn off the water.”

Alexis waits until her sink is shut off, and then starts typing.

  


Twy 💖  
  
hey twy  
  
i kind of have a ✨ sitch. can you come over? ❤️❤️  
  
Hi babe  
  
What's going on?  
  
um it's kind of hard to explain  
  
but your cal says you're free in 45  
  
I was supposed to go to Home Depot with Mutt on lunch  
  
but it's not on your cal so maybe mutt can go by himself? or later?  
  
it's kind of an emergency  
  
but i'm fine! like it's not a demon it's more like a lil 👻  
  
A ghost you can hear? Or see?  
  
no but it's doing things i can see  
  
if that makes sense  
  
Is it a poltergeist?  
  
um idk?  
  
Okay  
  
I'll be there ASAP  
  
If you need to, you can bind it with that spell we talked about  
  
okay thanks twy i love you!! see you soon ❤️  
  


  


Twyla follows their client out the door as soon as the meeting wraps, tossing Mutt an apologetic smile and a goodbye on her way out. Even if Alexis isn't dealing with a demon, the situation's too close to deja vu for her liking; her mind is racing with possibilities as she makes her way quickly over to Alexis' building.

She can hear the cacophony as soon as she gets Alexis' door unlocked. It's coming from upstairs, but Twyla peeks into Alexis' ground floor office just in case, and finds it empty. Her computer isn't even there. 

"Lex?" The clanging grows louder as she ascends up to the first floor, and she adds, a little louder, "Alexis?"

The mystery's solved as soon as she passes the dining table to find them: Alexis, typing away at work on the couch, like today's any regular day, and an all-too-familiar ghost is in the kitchen, clad in a thick flannel shirt and jeans, loudly mixing what looks to be –

" _Glenn_? Are you making _brownies_?" 

"Babe!" Alexis leaps up, setting her computer away so quickly that Twyla's surprised it doesn't crash to the floor. 

She's in Twyla's arms within seconds, just like any other time Twyla's returned from work. It's only been two months, but Twyla's arm finds its way around Alexis' waist and her lips press a kiss to Alexis' cheek like they've been coming home to each other for years. 

The comforting familiarity of it all is almost enough to distract Twyla, but then Glenn turns around and Twyla's mouth drops as she follows his motion: the _stove_ is on, set to low, and Glenn is swiftly, noisily stirring what appears to be a caramel sauce. The whisk's banging against the saucepan's sides, and the saucepan scrapes loudly against the stove grate. 

He still hasn't acknowledged her question. Twyla knows they've been in a feud for years, but she didn't think he'd _ignore_ her.

"Glenn," she says pointedly. She moves over to the kitchen island, looking curiously down at the mixing bowl. Sure enough, it's full of a thick brownie batter. 

"It's really good," Alexis says over Twyla's shoulder, using her as a barrier between herself and the ghost, trying to be helpful. "I tasted it." 

"Lex –" Twyla loves her so much, but she cannot believe she has to specify this point. "– you can't just let a ghost set a fire in your apartment." 

Alexis throws her hands up in the air. "Okay, I'm _sorry_ , but it's not as though he's really listening to me? He's not even listening to _you_! So how was _I_ supposed to tell him he can't light a fire?"

It's not the point of anything, really, but Twyla can't help it. "He's listening to me!" She chances a look over at Glenn, who's turning off the stove. "See?" Twyla points as the flame flickers off. "He's turning off the fire!"

Glenn stays silent, though, and Twyla's irritation flares. She scoffs, eyebrows drawing together as she frowns, but all Glenn does is bring the saucepan over to the brownie batter. He gives her a sheepish smile, then starts to stir the caramel sauce into the mixing bowl.

Twyla takes a seat at the island, elbows on the counter, and lowers her head in an attempt to try and catch Glenn's eye. But he's pointedly ignoring her, focusing simply on the brownie batter. "You're really not going to talk to me, Glenn? I know we're in a feud, but –"

"You and Glenn are in a _feud_?" It's Alexis of course, taking a seat right next to her. Her eyes grow wide in morbid fascination as Glenn reaches for a big chef's knife and starts chopping toffee and marshmallows; Alexis can't see Glenn's body, and Twyla can only imagine what this must look like to her. " _Why,_ when he can make these bomb-looking brownies?"

Twyla pinches the bridge of her nose, then lets out a deep exhale. "It's a long story, Lex." Glenn nods in agreement, turning briefly away to preheat the oven – thank god he hadn't done that before Twyla had arrived – before he faces them again. "I've known Glenn since – Wait, how did Glenn even get here?"

Glenn points his big hand in Alexis' direction. "She summoned me."

It's not the answer Twyla was expecting to hear, but she's still too irritated with Glenn to unpack his implications. "Oh, so you _can_ still speak."

Alexis tugs on her arm. "Twy, what did he say?"

Before Twyla can answer, though, Glenn speaks up again. "The veil is thin here. And she used an ancient magical artifact to reach me." 

Twyla's eyebrows go up. She knows Alexis' magic is strong, stronger than they'd anticipated it could possibly be when she'd started to discover it anew over the summer, but she hadn't anticipated that Alexis' abilities could traverse the veil. 

"Lex," she says. Alexis can't hear Glenn, so she'll have to do some multiplanar communications back and forth between the two of them. "Do you have an 'ancient magical artifact' that I don't know about?"

Alexis has enough self-awareness to look a little bit chagrined; she tugs a little on a kitchen towel, but instead of adjusting the towel to where she wants it, the motion reveals a glimpse of the Ouija board underneath. "In my defense," she says quickly, "I didn't think it'd actually work?"

Twyla doesn't mean to laugh, but she's relieved; better a harmless Ouija board than some other sort of magical device that has powers of its own. Of course, there's still the matter of whether a simple game, sold by stores worldwide, can be used as a conduit for summoning spirits from the beyond. 

"That's it?" She looks at Alexis, who tries a casual shrug. "You were just, like, using the Ouija and then suddenly Glenn was here?"

"Okay, well. Maybe there was a little more than that?" Alexis bites her lip, tilting her head to one side as her wrists come up to her chest. "There was like, this big flashing series of lights all around – kind of the same as the magic that was on my hands? But I hadn't been _meaning_ to use magic, it just happened, and then there was a big whoosh, and my hands were all tingly. It was actually super cool." 

It isn't completely unheard of, what Alexis has accomplished with Glenn, but Twyla hadn't realized her magical ability was capable of such a feat. She should've known better than to underestimate her girlfriend, though. "Lex, I'm so proud of you!" Twyla reaches out for Alexis' hand, smiling fondly as Alexis preens a bit, but then they're interrupted.

"She helped Mutt break your heart," Glenn intones, pointing in Alexis' direction again. "Are you sure this is the one for you?"

Twyla exhales loudly, exasperated. This is exactly why she and Glenn had decided to stop interacting, and why she'd sent him past the veil when he'd, in a very dramatic huff, declared that he was done with the mortal plane. "You have to be kidding me. You came all the way just to make brownies and question my judgment _again_?" 

"Twy," Alexis interjects, tugging on her arm; her eyes shift back and forth between Twyla and a patch of vacant air, oblivious to Glenn's actual whereabouts. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Lex." Twyla puts on a strained smile; she tries not to harbour so much negativity, and she appreciated Glenn's company when she was younger, but he's always been such an interferer. "It's just that this ghost thinks he knows more about how I should live my life than I do. And that's why we'd agreed to not talk anymore."

"Really?" Alexis tries to look at Glenn again, and Twyla brings her hand up to Alexis' chin to gently adjust her line of sight. "I thought he was like, your friend, and that's why he decided to come. I mean, he did say something about how he's making these brownies as an apology? It was through the Ouija board so it was super slow and I may not have caught _everything_ , but I'm pretty sure that's what he was saying. I didn't really know what he was apologizing _for_ , though, so…" She trails off, considering all of this, then adds, "I guess that makes sense. Like, as much as it can make sense."

"Glenn makes sense," Glenn says moodily. The oven beeps, and he turns to put the brownie dish into it. When he closes the door, it bangs so loud that nearly all of Alexis' appliances seem to rattle. "Glenn makes a lot of sense."

Twyla shakes her head, exasperated. She loves how she can communicate with spirits, truly, and appreciates the company they've given her over the years, but eternal death seems to make them a special brand of irritable that sometimes rubs her the wrong way. "You're doing all these dishes, you know."

"Fine." Glenn places his hands on the kitchen island. "Glenn will do dishes."

"Good." It's not a lot, but it's a start, and it's enough to deflate a little bit of Twyla's annoyance. She glances at the worried look on Alexis' face, then back at Glenn, and sighs. "Are you really making these brownies as an apology?"

"Yes." True to his word, Glenn starts gathering bowls and measuring cups, then stacks them in the sink. "Glenn has missed Twyla." 

She doesn't want to admit it, but she's missed him too. Glenn had lived quite the life; she makes a mental note to tell Alexis all about how Glenn had moved to Canada after fighting in the American Civil War, then opened up a pumpkin pie hall and married the daughter of the rival pumpkin pie hall across the street. Before their feud had started, he had always been good company. 

"Everything turned out okay, right?" Twyla gestures with an arm, and she isn't sure what she's referring to: her move to Toronto, her partnership with Mutt, the exorcism of Alexis' demon a few months ago, her relationship with Alexis, or who Twyla herself has become, five years after she last saw Glenn. "I know you only wanted what was best for me, but you can't meddle in people's lives like that. Mutt's still freaked out by what you did to him."

"What did he do?" Alexis whispers.

Twyla raises her eyebrows; it's a good story, but it'd be better to share without Glenn around. "I'll tell you later."

"Do not," Glenn interrupts. He shrugs his big ghost shoulders, and his fur-lined earflap hat tilts a bit on his head. "Glenn is ashamed. Glenn is _sorry_."

"Good." Twyla sighs, again, biting at her lip. "I'm sorry we disagreed back then, and that I just let five years go by like that. But you know, Alexis isn't who she was back then anymore, either. Mutt, too."

"The living," Glenn says moodily. Twyla has to admit that he really does look apologetic. "You change so frequently. We ghosts sometimes forget this. All the years look the same." 

"They're both good people," Twyla adds. She smiles at Alexis, trying to add enough warmth to put her girlfriend at ease. "Especially Alexis. You'll see, if you stick around long enough."

"Aww, babe." Alexis slips an arm around Twyla's waist, holding on tightly, and kisses her cheek. "Don't worry, I think Glenn and I have a special bond now. You know, 'cause I like, brought him back to this world or whatever." 

Glenn shakes his head, but Twyla grins. "He definitely agrees. Very special bond."

"No," Glenn says. Out of the corner of her eye, as Twyla leans in to kiss Alexis, she can see Glenn put on a very petulant frown. "No bond." 

When Alexis draws back from the kiss, her eyes sparkling with the novelty of the entire ghostly situation, she caresses Twyla's cheek with her thumb. Twyla can feel the barest hint of Alexis' magic underneath the surface of her skin, and she turns her head to kiss the center of Alexis' palm. 

"I love you," Twyla murmurs softly, looking up at her girlfriend. "I can't believe you somehow knew to summon Glenn back into my life. I've never meant anyone so thoughtful." 

Alexis wiggles her shoulders, and her eyes roll up briefly as a little satisfied smile slides across her lips. "Babe, I would do _anything_ for you. I love you so much."

Glenn makes a disgusted noise, then turns to busy himself at the sink. Twyla takes that as their cue to move over to the living room, glancing at her watch to see how much time she has left before Mutt's expecting her back at work, then takes a seat on the sofa next to Alexis. 

"I've never gotten anything so meaningful for Christmas before," Twyla admits. She takes Alexis' hands in each of her own. "This really makes me think about how the holidays are about more than buying each other material gifts."

Alexis flashes her a wide smile, nodding as she seems to shift on the sofa cushion; Twyla manages to catch the barest glimpse of a photo of some kitchenware before a magazine falls to the floor. " _Yes_ , babe, we should totally – Glenn is definitely your Christmas present." 

"Thank you." Twyla leans in for another kiss as she tunes out the loud sounds of Glenn rearranging Alexis' dishwasher. "I actually got you those Vera Wang sunglasses you wanted, but since you got me something so meaningful –"

"Actually," Alexis says quickly, her voice scaling up. "Maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions, or like, rush into any big decisions about gift returning…"

Twyla smiles, pressing her lips together to try and hold it back. "No?"

"No." Alexis wraps both arms around Twyla's waist. "The Vera sunnies are, like, _my_ Glenn. You know?" 

"Hmm." Twyla pretends to mull this over. "That seems awfully convenient." 

There’s a vicious clattering from the kitchen, and Alexis giggles as she leans in to kiss Twyla. "Um, babe?" She pulls back just enough to look into Twyla's eyes as she bites her lower lip nervously. "Glenn’s, like. Not going to stay _here _all the time. Right?"__

__Twyla smiles at Alexis' face, and the wide eyes that keep darting down to focus on Twyla's mouth. "I'm sure," she teases, drawing Alexis close again, "that we can find a way to make him leave."_ _


End file.
